


Not Like You

by Too_Many_Seeds



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: F/M, Jealousy, Smut, implied previous unhealthy relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-24 03:19:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18562837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Too_Many_Seeds/pseuds/Too_Many_Seeds
Summary: Tagging along to John’s work events was always a trial. Thankfully, she wasn't alone.





	Not Like You

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick warning for nsfw and implied previous unhealthy relationships (but nothing explicit).

Tagging along to John’s work events was always a trial. A bunch of suits that reeked of money and snide comments from people she would really rather never meet again; it wasn’t something she would prefer to ever really go to. 

It was simply the cherry on top to arrive at the event, already self-conscious hanging off the arm of her husband, to see her ex fiance was the host of the damn thing. 

John wasn’t oblivious, and had noticed when she’d tensed up at the sight of the man she had very nearly married once upon a time. Smiling so as to not draw attention, John had wrapped an arm around her waist and leaned closer to her ear, muttering his concern. 

His response to her revelation was both frightening and strangely vindictive. Frightening because, for brief second, it looked as though John wanted to ruin the man she had once loved…and vindictive because she knew he very well could. 

He’d known, Rook consoled herself as she wove through the crowds with John, who was ever the social butterfly and was rather skilled at making up for her own poor conversational skills. John had already been aware that she’d nearly married, but it was easier to just know these things than to actually put a face to them. 

It was when they greeted the esteemed host himself that Rook realised how very much she wished to never again trail along to another event. 

“It’s good to see you,” her ex-fiance said to her and her husband, smooth smiles and glowing aura - and oh, dear lord, it was time to admit she had a type. He gave John a quick but meaningful once-over. “I’m glad to see you’ve done well for yourself.” 

Suddenly, she was feeling very conspicuous in the darling outfit John had paid for. 

“How’s your wife?” Rook shot back, with a little bit less honey coating her words but she could be forgiven for being clumsy with the dance. “Graduated from college yet?” 

Her forty year old ex-fiance gave her a too-tight smile, but it was wiped away in an instant as he took in John beside her. 

“You must be John Duncan,” he said, honey once more as he held out a hand to shake. “I’ve heard you’re quite the rising star.” He took a sip of his drink and tilted his head curiously. “I wonder how you two met.” 

“College,” John replied before she could stop him, and he gave her a quick, reassuring smile before he continued. “She was engaged at the time, I believe.” He took her hand and ran his finger over the darling ring she wore. “Though I’ve since managed to steal her for myself.” 

Her ex-fiance glanced at her ring and smiled.

“That looks lovely,” he commented, and anyone else would think him genuine. “Is that Piaget?” 

She and John stiffened - he had a good eye. Fortunately, so too did her husband. 

“Oh, my. Hickman!” He called out across the crowded room, smile sickeningly sweet. The man in question was older, greying at his temples. “Over here!” 

The man in question lit up upon seeing John, eyes crinkling in a smile as he came to join them, weaving through the crowd. 

“John Duncan, you’re a  _sight_ for sore eyes, my boy,” he greeted, shaking the man’s hand. 

“You’re too kind,” John replied, and gestured to Rook, “and my wife, Rook …Duncan,” he said, lip twitching only slightly with the surname. “I didn’t realise you’d be attending this evening; I thought you were finishing up the lawsuit paperwork.” 

Hickman chuckled.

“Well, everyone’s due their break,” he said, and raised his glass, “especially when there’s wine involved.” 

John smiled, and then turned to Rook, a glint in his eye that was entirely too performative. 

“Hickman here was involved in a nasty lawsuit over some of his properties. Nearly suffered quite the loss,” John explained for her, though she knew he wasn’t just speaking for her sake. “Thankfully, he dropped his previous defense and…well, he hired  _me_.” 

Across from her, she saw her ex-fiance flush red and she realised just  _who_  “the previous defense” had been. 

“This man saved my hide,” Hickman admitted. "Definitely know who I can call next time I get in a little trouble.” He gave a tight smile. “And who I… _can’t.”_

John had the good graces to at least appear modest as he waved the praise away and made their excuses for their early departure. They thanked the host and just as they were about to thankfully leave, John paused and turned to face her ex-fiance one last time. 

“And you’re right,” John said, canine flashing as he gave a meaningful glance down to her hand on his arm. “It  _is_ Piaget.” 

When they returned home after these events, usual protocol involved the two of them sitting in a bath and relaxing. This evening, however, they’d barely taken off their coats before he’d had her bent over the mattress, arms above her head and hips pressed flush against hers. 

“ _You have no idea how much I want you_ ,” he growled into her ear, rolling against her and relishing in the sigh it drew from her. “All evening, seeing him even  _look_ at you made me want to steal you away and keep you all for myself.” 

She couldn’t help but laugh at that image, but it turned into a groan as his fingers crept their way between her legs; tugging her underwear to the side and delving to trace and tease where she wanted to feel him most. Her legs spread instinctively - or as best as they could with John’s weight bearing down on her - and she angled her hips up into him, encouraging more. 

“He couldn’t fuck me like you,” Rook murmured, feeling John burrow in the crook of her neck, lips pressing kisses on her skin with just the hint of too-sharp teeth. “He couldn’t make me come like you do.” 

He groaned at her words, sliding two fingers inside her as a reward, and she gasped at the feeling; her embarrassing wetness easing the way and she savoured the stretch that made her anticipate him even more. 

“ _I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever even met that asshole,_ ” John promised, voice low but not near-manic as she might have expected. This was John who was determined, and it made her eyes shut, whimpering over the extra stretch of another finger as he made sure she was ready. “You’ll remember exactly who you belong to.” 

He didn’t bother undressing either of them; simply tugging her underwear to the side and sliding in bare. She gasped at the fullness that she had been aching for all evening, and rocked back against him; taking him in as deep as she could until his hips were flush with hers. 

Her dress’ skirt was bunched up around her waist - the same dress that only hours before she had been made to feel ashamed about. Now, however, this would always be the dress that John fucked her in after his work party, and she was thoroughly okay with that. 

Her cheek was pressed against the mattress, pushed slightly against it with every rock of his hips, but she didn’t mind. There was even something strangely erotic about it, about feeling her husband around her, covering her, but keeping her face down on the mattress - keeping her how he wanted her - and making her take him over and over and  _over._

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her neck as he gave shallow but languid, rolling thrusts. 

“Who’s my darling?” He whispered, voice breathy and not unaffected. One of his hands ducked between her legs, brushing her thighs further apart as he traced her entrance; clutching around him as it was. “Who’s  _mine_?” 

Her own hand managed to find his where they were joined, and with an intoxicating sort of interest, she explored the base of him as he rocked in and out of her, with her own walls trying to grip him and keep him deep. 

“I am,” she breathed in reply, and her breath hitched as his fingers snuck upwards to roll around her clit, making her torn between wanting to spread her thighs wider for him or shut them tight around his hand to keep him there. “Oh -  _fuck -_  I am, Johnny.” 

“You’re what?” He asked, as though he didn’t already know. 

He found a spot inside her that had her legs shaking, knees buckling and hips trying to push back against him harder, take him deeper as he kept brushing against it time and time again. 

“ _Fuck!”_ She whined, forehead bracing down on the mattress as her muscles were tightening; every roll of his fingers on her clit, every rock inside her that made her clench around him, everything was sending her quickly to the release she was so desperate for. “I’m your darling.” She took a quick breath to sigh out a moan before continuing, “I’m yours.” 

John was losing pace, rapidly approaching his own end, and he compensated by doubling down against her clit, making her try to arch into him as his finger rolled tiny circles that built and built into a heat that had her whining up at him. 

“Show me,” he breathed, breaking into a groan as she clenched tighter and tighter, “show me you’re mine, darling.” 

It only took another few thrusts before she was gone, eyes shutting as she gave a strangled cry and everything became stretched taut for but a second before it gave. It had her whimpering groans as she rippled around him and he hissed as he felt her release hit her. He made no efforts to hide the loud moan as he spilled inside her; staying hilted deep as she rode out the ends of her release. 

When her whimpers trailed off, he slowly pulled out; making sure to roll to the side so he could draw her next to him. He heard her fiddle with her shoes, pulling them off finally and he felt a stab of guilt at having not taken the time for her to get completely comfortable before he tried to ravish her. 

Envy was a beast indeed. 

“So tonight was…something,” Rook said, when a few minutes had passed. She rose to sit on the edge of the mattress, scowling down at the dress he had bought her. “Shit, this is going to crease.” 

He rose with her, watching as she unzipped her dress and stepped out of it, hanging it up in his closet and the shoes soon following into the rack. He was silent as she moved, but as she emerged from his robe clad in one of his old, too-large shirts, he caught her hand and turned her to face him. 

“He’s  _nothing,”_ John said, perhaps with a bit more venom than intended, but wrath was his burden and he bore it well. “And a fool. You, my dear…are  _perfect_.” 

She pushed him back onto the mattress, climbing on top of his lap and leaning down to rest against his chest. 

“He doesn’t affect me. Not anymore,” Rook replied calmly, and knew it to be true. “I know my own worth…and I know  _his.”_ She couldn’t help but shake her head, and then glanced up at John, sliding up to catch him in a gentle kiss. “But thank you.” 

Rook had never liked John’s work parties, but when they happened to feature such a special dessert, she didn’t think she’d mind attending them just a few more times. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! <3


End file.
